


Come Play With Me

by soulless_lover



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: He's technically 25, Is Oz Underage?, Kissing, M/M, Popsicles, Teasing, poor Oscar, poor gilbert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26907958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulless_lover/pseuds/soulless_lover
Summary: Gilbert just wants to do his job, but Oz is in the mood to play... and Gilbert has always been his favorite playmate.
Relationships: Gilbert Nightray/Oz Vessalius
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Come Play With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silverwing26](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverwing26/gifts).



> OH HEY I WROTE A THING.
> 
> It's been forever, so I may be a bit rusty; sorry about that.
> 
> In case anyone is wondering, this takes place at the Vessalius mansion, and Alice is visiting Sharon at Rainsworth Manor.
> 
> Written to [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NMNgbISmF4I).

“Hiding in the shade, huh?”

Gilbert pushed the brim of his hat back with one finger and looked up from his paperwork to see Oz standing over him, soaking wet from swimming, a lemon ice lolly in one hand and a huge grin on his face. “I’m not hiding,” Gilbert replied, a bit snappishly. “I’m working.” 

Oz gaped at him in openmouthed shock. _”Working?”_ he gasped, sounding perfectly horrified. “On a day like _this?_ The water feels great, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, the breeze is wonderful, there isn't a single cloud in the whole sky, and you’re _really_ just gonna sit under this tree and miss it all?” 

Gilbert held up the memorandum-book of notes and the report form he was doing his best to fill in. “It’s not like I’m just sitting here doing nothing! See? _Work._ I’m an adult with a job, you know.”

A vaguely hurt look crossed the boy’s face, then vanished behind a sunny smile. “Oh, I see.... so... being an adult with a job just goes hand-in-hand with being boring, huh?” The ice lolly was melting in the heat; Oz licked at the droplet running down his forearm, then stuck the treat in his mouth and regarded his servant curiously.

Gilbert tried to scowl, but it was incredibly difficult with his young master standing there in nothing but a tattered old pair of short-trousers, his slim, wet body browned by the sun, his golden hair dripping water all over Gilbert’s notes. “It’s called being responsible,” he sulked. “I _have_ to do it.” 

Oz considered. “Even working adults take breaks every now and then,” he said around the ice lolly, folding his arms across his chest in a stern sort of way. “So take a break.”

“Take that thing out of your mouth when you’re talking!” Gilbert scolded, and Oz burst out laughing.

“Oh, Gil…! Really, you are too much!” The boy pushed the papers aside and sat astride Gilbert’s long legs, his knees pressing down into the soft grass on either side of the larger man’s thighs.

“Hey—!" Gilbert began, but then Oz leaned in closer, and his voice died in his throat.

“We used to have so much fun together,” the youth murmured in a soft, wistful voice, the tip of the ice lolly resting lightly on his lower lip. “You remember, don’t you? It hasn’t been _that_ long, has it?”

“I remember,” Gilbert replied, swallowing hard. He struggled to tear his gaze away from Oz’s soft pink mouth as it lapped and licked and sucked; he’d never wanted to be a frozen bar of lemonade before, but there it was. “Of course I remember.”

Oz leaned still closer, so close that Gilbert could smell the sweet lemon on his breath, and rested his free hand on his servant's chest. “You were my favorite playmate.” His shining green eyes pinned his hapless valet to the trunk of the tree and held him there effortlessly. “Don’t you want to play with me?”

“More than anything,” Gilbert answered honestly, his heart pounding; his clothes were getting wet, his reports weren’t getting done, and if anyone happened to look out the window and see them in that position, it would be _very_ awkward to explain… but Oz was sitting in his lap nearly naked and sucking on a lemon ice lolly, somehow managing to look both innocent and incredibly erotic at the same time… and suddenly nothing was as important to Gilbert as making his master happy.

“Then come on.” Oz’s voice was barely above a whisper, his lips just a hair’s breadth from Gilbert’s. “Come play with me, Gil.”

Gilbert groaned and gave in; he tossed his hat aside, pushed Oz down on his back in the grass, and proceeded to kiss the hell out of him. The sweet, lemony taste of the boy’s mouth was like heaven; his blond hair smelled of the honeysuckle flowers that grew along the garden wall; the scent of coconut emanated from his slippery skin, and Gilbert realized Oz was wearing some kind of suntan oil; the boy was like the embodiment of summer sunshine and joy, bringing light and color into the marksman's dysthymic world; he was as addictive as any drug, and Gilbert couldn’t get enough of him.

Breathless, Oz eagerly returned the kisses, clinging to Gilbert’s back as best as he could while still holding the dripping remainder of the ice pop aloft. He dearly loved to push his servant’s buttons until something fun and interesting happened - and something _always_ happened, because Gilbert was an overemotional hothead who was fairly easy to rile up - but he’d never have predicted that the man would just lay him down and kiss him senseless. Short fuse or not, Gilbert was still a very gentle and shy person by nature, and when Oz had begun teasing him, he’d expected Gilbert to very reluctantly set aside his work and maybe - _maybe_ \- sheepishly agree to come down to the pond to swim for a half-hour or so. Oz ending up flat on his back in full view of the house with Gilbert on top of him and a melted ice lolly running down his arm was an outcome he hadn’t considered, and although he was a little concerned that someone might see, Gilbert’s kisses were so hot and so passionate that Oz really didn’t care about anything else after a few seconds.

It was Gilbert who finally pulled away, as if he’d suddenly realized where they were and what they were doing. “Wait…” he panted, and Oz had to resist the urge to pull him back down and keep right on kissing him. “Oz… we can’t… not here…”

“Tch,” Oz grumbled. “You’re right.” Without warning, he reached up and began unbuttoning Gilbert’s shirt, holding the wooden stick from the ice pop between his teeth to free up his hands.

“W-W-Wait!” Gilbert blurted, and blushed deeply, much to his wicked little master’s delight. “What are you doing!?”

“Taking your clothes off,” Oz deadpanned, deftly avoiding his servant’s swatting hands.

“You can’t take my clothes off here!” Gilbert nearly shouted, so flustered that his ears were turning red and little beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. 

Oz took the stick out of his mouth. “You’d rather I took them off somewhere else?” he asked, thoroughly enjoying himself.

Gilbert was flushed from his collarbones to his hairline; somehow, Oz could still make him feel like an awkward fourteen-year-old boy. “I didn’t— I meant— I—“

Oz grinned. “Are you going to swim in all your clothes, then?”

“Huh?” Gilbert blinked, feeling like he’d missed something somewhere. “Swim?”

“Yes, _swim_ ,” Oz said, in the tone of one explaining something to a small child. “You know, where you get in a lot of water and splash around? Get wet? _Have fun?”_

“When did I agree to that?” Gilbert was beginning to wonder if all the kissing had melted his brain or something, he was so confused.

“You're just about to,” Oz chirped merrily, “so let’s get your clothes off.”

“But someone might _see_ us!” 

“So we'll go down to the pond first. There’s a ton of shrubbery and trees, no one’s going to see anything there.” 

Gilbert had the distinct impression he’d just been checkmated in a game he hadn’t even realized he’d been playing. “The pond?”

Oz was so charmed that he was giggling. “Yep. Pond. Big body of water. Smaller than a lake. Bigger than a bathtub. Wooden dock on one side. A few fish. Maybe a duck or two. Pretty standard, really.”

Gilbert sat up and covered his face with one hand. “All right, you win.”

“Yay!” Oz jumped to his feet and reached a sticky, lemon-scented hand out to Gilbert. “I knew you couldn't have become _that_ boring!” 

Gilbert took the proffered hand and stood, strangely happy despite the fact that he’d been railroaded yet again, and was going to be behind in his work. “Only twenty minutes, though. I really have to finish that report.”

“Only twenty!?” Oz wailed. “Are you serious?? It’ll take you at least half that to get all your clothes off! Who wears all that in the summer, anyway!?”

“I can’t play all day!” Gilbert retorted. “This is for my _job!”_

Pulling Gilbert along by the hand, Oz set off toward the pond. “Your job is to do what I say!”

“I have a house to pay for!”

Oz was practically skipping, he was so cheerful. “So just stay here and move back into your old room!” He sounded as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Gilbert laughed in spite of himself. “You’re going to drive me crazy, Oz.”

The boy turned his head to look back at his servant, sunlight glittering over his hair and in his emerald eyes. “Don’t worry,” he said with a bright smile. “If you go crazy, I’ll take care of you - you’re my best friend, after all.”

Gilbert blinked, surprised. “Oz…”

“Come on! We’re almost there!” The boy charged forward again, squeezing Gilbert’s hand tightly. “You’re gonna love it! The water’s so nice…”

Gilbert could only follow, blushing; although he suspected he ought to be annoyed, he couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear.

***************

Oscar Vessalius snuffed the remainder of his third cigarette in the glass ashtray he kept by the window and rang the servants’ bell; shortly thereafter, a footman arrived and bowed, waiting.

"Yes, Lord Oscar? What can I do for you, sir?"

“Bring me a bottle of wine,” Oscar instructed, and looked out the window again just in time to see Gilbert’s trousers flop over the tall hedge near the old fishing pond. “No, wait… make it two.”

END.


End file.
